Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2007 12:44:28 -0800 (PST)
From: McCain
Subject: Sunday Buddies
I met Mike shopping for groceries on Sunday mornings. I always went early,
around 8:00 AM, to avoid crowds. Most Sundays Mike was also in the store
shopping. He had a good, down home face, with sleepy looking eyes and a
mustache, and a solid body with a bit of a belly. I guessed he did outdoor
work because in the summer he often wore a tank top and shorts and his
thick shoulders and big arms were deeply tanned. Mike was friendly and
chatted easily with the clerks. What first got my attention was his deep
bass voice. Eventually we started saying hello to each other and
occasionally we would stop in the aisles and talk a bit.
One really hot summer Sunday we left the store together, pushing our carts
into the parking lot. Mike had told me he owned a construction company.
Today I asked him where it was located and when he told me I said I drove
past there on my way home. Out of the blue, Mike asked if I wanted to stop
and take a look. I said, sure.
I followed Mike to a good sized warehouse with a lot of trucks and
construction equipment in the parking lot. We parked in front of the
office and got out of our vehicles. Mike unlocked the office door and
motioned me inside. It was a room full of mismatched chairs and a couple
of desks with computers on them. Mike stopped at one of the desks, opened
the drawer and removed a cigar from a box. He lit the cigar, a good sized
Macanudo, and told me it was a weekly ritual. He said his wife would not
let him smoke at home, so he often stopped here on Sunday to enjoy a cigar.
Exhaling smoke, he looked straight at me. What are you looking for, he
said.
I was a little taken back by the sudden question but thought, what the
hell, I'll come clean. I told him I was looking for a take-charge guy who
might help me with a few things. He seemed like that kind of guy to me.
Mike smiled, as though he was not surprised by what he heard. He said he
knew I had been watching him in the store for a long time before we
introduced ourselves. Then he asked me just what I had in mind.
I told Mike that I was looking for a man who could give me the kind of
discipline I received from my father when I was young. In short, work
details and strappings with a belt. I felt I needed this to keep myself in
line. I expected Mike to tell me to get the hell out of the office.
Instead, he said he thought he could handle the job.
That is how it began. Most Sunday mornings after shopping, Mike and I
drove to his warehouse for our "session." He set me to a task, like
washing a truck or stacking pallets, and supervised my work. While I
worked up a sweat, Mike lit his Sunday cigar. With his deep voice he kept
me on track, pushing me to work a little faster or do things right. My
mistakes, of course, were the basis for what followed. When my work was
done, Mike led me to the office, pulled off his belt, and gave me a
strapping on my bare back. The number of straps was always specified in
advance, from an even ten up to two dozen, based on how well or poorly I
had done my work. This is important. If you are going to take this kind
of punishment you need to know what is in store so you can grunt it out.
Mike laid his belt on seriously but not brutally, giving me a short break
when he changed positions. The office smelled of his cigar, which he
continued to smoke as he gave me the strapping.
A strapping like this takes only about five minutes, although it seems
longer when you are on the receiving end. When it was over, both of us
were sexually aroused. Mike would stick the cigar in his mouth and unzip
his jeans. I would kneel on the floor in front of him and begin to give
him a blow job. We took our time. Mike clued me when he was ready to
climax by grabbing the back of my head and forcing his cock deep into my
throat. With the cigar clenched in his teeth, he told me in his deep voice
to take his big cock. Yeah, yeah, he would groan as he came. Afterwards
we cleaned up a bit in the office bathroom and headed to our cars. These
sessions usually lasted only about an hour. Mike figured out I was cheap
labor, so every now and then they lasted longer if he wanted to get a lot
of work out of me. These were two cigar Sundays.
Mike is an interesting guy. He is married, has three kids, supervises
about fifty men at his construction company, and is well regarded in the
community. I am gay, but I would not say Mike is. He is sexually aroused
by the chance to display his masculinity in a rough, dominating manner that
does not appeal to his wife or most women. Hence his willingness to work
me and discipline me with his belt before I give him a blow job. Mike told
he is turned on by smoking a cigar during sex, something his wife would
never go for.
These sessions work for both of us. Mike gets his raw urges out of his
system and I receive the kind of attention and discipline only one man can
give to another. Mike told me he came to respect me when he saw I could
stand in place and take a real strapping from his belt across my bare back.
He said he wished some of the men who worked for him were as tough. Mike,
with his burly build, thick cigar, deep voice and firm demeanor, is a man I
can look up to. So, the two of us have become buddies, spending some time
together on Sunday mornings.
Comments to McCain at Humble41011@yahoo.com